Chianti Classico Riserva 2001, Marchese Antinori
16th August 2008
Some weeks ago I argued that this Chianti, like so many other red Tuscans, was no longer good value for money. On reflection I think this was unfair. I would still say that, in most years, these wines offer a poorer deal than wines of equal stature from, say, Chile or South Africa. But some years are better than others, and a few are exceptional in every sense. This week’s vintage is undoubtedly one such.
I have heard the Antinori family called the Rothschilds of Italian wine. It would be truer to call the Rothschilds the French Antinoris. The Rothschilds have been prominent only since the early 1800s, and they entered the world of wine in the 1850s. The Antinoris have been growing wine since the late 1300s. Twenty-six generations later, the Antinori family owns vineyards in Tuscany, Umbria, Piedmont, southern Italy, and even California.
They make several Chiantis. The best known are from their vineyards at Badia a Passignano and Pèppoli; at any rate, these receive the most attention. But my favourite is a blend from several vineyards. It used be called Tenute Marchese Antinori, but is now simply Marchese Antinori. In an ordinary year it can leave little impression, but in 2001 something remarkable happened. That year’s product was smoky and opulent, with a long, dreamy finish. It costs around $30 (£15), but is worth considerably more. It is no longer easy to find, but a few bottles do pop up from time to time. If you spot one, grab it.
Incidentally, this wine illustrates a point that needs to be made more often: never trust gurus. As everyone knows, the most powerful such person in the world of wine is the US critic Robert Parker. His publication, the Wine Advocate, guides the wine-buying habits of thousands of rich Americans, so exercising an absurdly disproportionate influence over how much you and I pay for our drink. Now, while grumpy Europeans like myself often make rude comments about Parker’s 100-point system for judging wine quality, no one ever questions the accuracy of Parker’s journalism. But they should.
“The 2001 Chianti Classico Riserva Tenute Marchese Antinori, a mouthful of a name, is essentially a selection of the best Sangiovese grapes of the house’s Chianti Classico vineyards, with the sole exception of the Badia a Passignano.” That was Wine Advocate number 164, April 2006. But by 2001 Antinori had dropped “Tenuta” from the name (see the label, above), so the “mouthful” jibe suggests a certain inattentiveness. As for the wine’s composition, this is how Antinori themselves describe the vinification of the 2001: “Very careful selection of the grapes from the three estates in Chianti Classico, ‘Santa Cristina’, ‘Badia a Passignano’, ‘Pèppoli’.”
Yes, yes, I know: we all make mistakes. But we don’t all wield Mr. Parker’s power. If we did, we might feel we were under some moral pressure to get our information right, might we not? I am not saying this particular emperor is naked. Far from it. But his trousers are threadbare, and his bottom is clearly showing.
